Surprisingly, I go all these emails asking me why I was M.I.A.–as if I wasn’t already a narcissist!

So where the fuck was I?

I may sound kinda of crazy, but I was locked in a room with 8 girls for about 10 days. I was forced to wear high heels and make-up. I was only allowed to eat salad and drink water. Reading material consisted of mostly gossip magazines with one of the Kardashian girls always on the cover. The only think that kept me going was coffee at 3pm from Dunkin Donuts.

This picture should have been taken today. Me with my coffee getting ready to take Hilaria’s yoga class at Yoga Vida–but sadly no.

I had everything ready, yoga mat strapped to my back and my Kmart sneakers on heading to the subway. But when I couldn’t find my unlimited Metro card, I got all cheap and said “fuck it, I’m not paying $2 to get on the subway to head to yoga.”

So instead I went to Chase to deposit some checks and get a complimentary coffee and sucker. This turned out to be a 30 minute meeting with a financial adviser who made me more disillusioned about the idea of marriage. I feel like I should take his advise and forgo a wedding and buy something that will be worth more in the end…like quality stocks.

It’s never a surprise when I see pictures of Mila Kunis double fisting 2 coffees.

When I do it, shit goes to hell. The other day I tried drinking two ice coffees and my throat clenched up. I dribbled all over myself, pretty much looking like a half-asian with down-syndrome (most days I just look like a retard).

What happened to my swallowing capabilities?? I can only think of a few ways to exercise my pharynx? No. I lied–just one way. But it usually involves spitting.

I ate my feelings the other night at Noho Star. Why? Because the modern women is suffocating under a workload that encompasses the responsibilities of both genders.
So pour me another Irish coffee while I stuff the rest of that nutella crepe in my mouth because I’m taking the night off.